


Un Nuit Souvenu

by kamerlort



Series: Fleur [2]
Category: Beauty and the Beast (2017), Beauty and the Beast - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 09:16:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10533441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kamerlort/pseuds/kamerlort
Summary: Fulfilling his promise of a date, Gaston takes Lefou out for a night to remember, but it doesn't exactly go as planned.





	

**Author's Note:**

> First off, I would love to thank everyone for the completely unexpected response I received on part one of the Fleur series! I cannot thank you guys enough for reading, reviewing, and bookmarking my fanfic. You guys inspire me to keep writing!
> 
> Please enjoy part two, and expect part three soon. Again, thanks to everyone for the support!

"Whoever decided that certain flowers should have thorns is a complete idiot," Lefou snarls as he finishes wrapping a band-aid over his leaking thumb.

Laughter meets the man's pointed words, an airy sort of giggle that floats through the back room of the flower shop like a harmonious tune. Situated on an old stool, Lefou's companion merely fixes him with a reprimanding look, arms crossed over the journal at her lap.

"According to that logic, nature is an idiot?" she queries, a gentle smile breaking through her disappointed façade.

"Damn right, Belle," Lefou punctuates as he throws the offending stack of roses in a glass vase. "And stop laughing! I've already suffered enough today."

Rising to her feet, Belle approaches Lefou and wraps her arms gently around his broad shoulders. Moving on instinct, the man allows his head to rest on the grass-stained apron she has wrapped around her waist, sighing as he eyes the flower assortment with mild disdain. Belle smooths one dainty hand over the thick hair at his scalp and glances down at the defeated look upon his usually cheerful face.

"I'm sorry that you had such an awful day today, ma douce. Surely your engagement tonight will be able to pull you out of this terrible mood, no?"

Lefou freezes like a deer caught in the headlights. "Shit," he whispers, cheeks warming instantly to thoughts of a certain dark-haired bastard.

"You forgot, didn't you?"

". . . No."

Pulling away from the man, Belle fixes him with a look that abandons all previous warmth. "Don't lie to me, I'm not stupid."

"I know that!" Lefou says defensively, his entire body flooding with hot embarrassment. "It just—slipped my mind, is all!"

 _If only it could have,_ Lefou thinks as Belle glides back to her wooden seat. It would have taken a serious bout of amnesia for the man to rid his mind of any and all memories of Gaston.

Lefou's cheeks seem to burn even more intensely as he remembers the scene the other man had made the previous weekend, showing up to _Villeneuve Flowers_ like a crazed lunatic. Although the display had certainly made the sensitive romantic inside him swoon, Lefou was no idiot. When Gaston disturbed the only place Lefou found solitary comfort in, he seemed to have also infected the other man with endless thoughts of his stupidly handsome face. It made Lefou's blood boil.

"So, do you have any idea what your boyfriend has planned for this evening?" Belle questions, a sinister smirk painting her coy features.

"He's not my boyfriend!" Lefou snaps, standing to his feet in an instant. With a sing-song giggle, Belle merely floats through the door in escape, her journal tucked safely underneath her arm.

He can't think of a biting remark to yell after her. Choosing instead to flop back down onto the workbench, Lefou extracts an archaic flip phone from the pocket of his jacket. A notification appears as he snaps the screen upward, signaling an unread text message. Lefou doesn't need to be a fortune teller to predict who's responsible. Apprehension building in his gut, he slowly presses on the keypad one finger.

**_cnt wait 2 c u 2night ;)_ **

Lefou rolls his eyes, annoyed at getting worked up for nothing.

_**Wish I could say the same. Learn how to spell!** _

He hits send and shoves the phone back into his pocket before he can reconsider a nicer alternative text. It takes less than twenty seconds before the phone buzzes noisily in his pocket. Willing himself not to immediately read Gaston's response, Lefou pointedly extracts the device and sets it on top of an upturned flowerpot. He waits, counting the seconds.

Somewhere between thirty-nine and forty, Lefou's hand seems to act on it's own accord, knocking the ceramic pot over in it's haste. Fumbling with it in his shaking hands, Lefou manages to bring the phone directly in front of his nose to read the newest message.

_**ur so mean!! :( its kind of sexy actually ;)** _

It takes all of the man's strength to not lob the cellular device through one of the glass panels behind him. Taking in a long, deep breath, Lefou closes his eyes and tries not to mentally off himself. If he owned a time machine, there's no doubt that he would have gone back and thrown away his computer before Gaston had ever requested that they be Facebook friends (and demanded his number in turn).

**_I still have three hours to consider canceling tonight's plans. Don't test me._ **

The response is almost immediate.

**_ill b good!! promise!! cross my heart nd hope 2 die!_ **

**_Hope to die? I'll accept._ **

**_rude!! u kno u luv me ;P_ **

Lefou's fingers are flying across the keyboard faster than he ever thought was possible.

**_I know I tolerate you. Will you give me any hints about what to expect tonight?_ **

**_no .. its a secret ;)_ **

**_Hopefully it's a seminar on how to fix your god-awful spelling. Seriously, no hints?_ **

When Lefou hits send, the smile that stretches his lips is so wide that his cheeks begin to hurt. Biting down on it in an attempt to hide his treacherous feelings, he sets the phone before him and tries not to shift in his seat, waiting for the screen to glow at Gaston's response.

A minute passes by in an instant. Lefou's phone remains silent.

Squirming with anxiety, he tries not to focus on the device, choosing instead to actually tend to his work. Wrapping lilac ribbons around the stems of chrysanthemums almost seems like a tedious chore. A cold sweat collects on Lefou's lower back as he flits his eyes from the phone to the third bouquet of flowers in hand, chewing his bottom lip as fear begins to settle in his gut.

_**Hello? Gaston?** _

Stomach churning as he presses send, Lefou can't help but rise to his feet and begin pacing about the workroom. He nearly shrieks when the phone suddenly blares to life, rattling heavily against the wooden table. Flying over to the device, he hastily reads the text.

**_haha sry i wuz in the bathroom lol. did u miss me tht much?? ;) no hints!!_ **

Lefou wants to reach through the phone and strangle Gaston with both hands. Settling back in his chair with relief coursing through his veins, Lefou waits a moment to gather his thoughts and entertain a response.

_**Fine then, no hints. And no, I didn't miss you at all.** _

_**not even a little?? :(** _

Something akin to guilt stirs in Lefou's heart at his tone with the other man.

**_Maybe just a little._ **

**_omg .. im crying!!_ **

With a gentle smile, Lefou types out his final text.

**_I'll see you at eight o'clock. Don't be late!_ **

**_i wudnt keep the most handsome man on earth waiting!! c u then ;)_**

 

 

The unyielding ticking of the clock overhead sends a shiver of anticipation down Gaston's rigid spine.

It's a quarter past five in the evening, and the thrill of the expectancies to come later have the man on the edge of his seat—literally, as he balances on the sloped end of his chair. Lefou's last text had made Gaston's heart thump loudly in his ears. The boring desk job he occupies does little to rid himself with thoughts of Lefou. Chewing on the end of his only good pen, Gaston's eyes shift once more to the drab circular clock that seems to mock his growing impatience.

From his prior observation, only a minute of time has passed. Anger at the damned time-keeping device floods to his muscles, bunching under the scratchy material of his dress shirt. Resting his head on the cool surface of his work desk, Gaston can't help but let out a guttural moan of frustration.

"Having trouble?"

Cracking one eye slightly open, annoyance flares in tandem as he eyes the face of his dreaded cubicle partner.

"What do you want, Adam?" Gaston growls, peeking over folded arms as he remains sloped over the crowded desk. The man opposite him seems to have a relatively uninterested look upon his face, holding a mug in one hand and a manila folder in the other.

"You were making a lot of unnecessary noise, so I thought I would come by to tell you that it's annoying."

Pulling back from his despondent position, Gaston shoots a dark look Adam's way. "Don't you have paperwork to file?" he spits with barely contained fury. Adam merely pulls his thick brows together, mouth transfixed in a hard line.

"Don't _you_ have work to do as well? I'm not going to pull your weight, Gaston. You'll have to do that yourself."

Letting out an even louder moan and rolling his eyes, Gaston throws himself heavily onto the now-crumpled stack of papers beneath him. Hearing the other man let out a growl of agitation and stalk away, Gaston gives himself a moment to breathe and let thoughts of Lefou swim through his mind, quelling the agitation that itches under his skin.

_What would the other man wear? Would Lefou dress casual or formal? Would he like the date that Gaston had agonizingly planned several days prior? Would he have fun?_

A sudden migraine seems to disarm his tumultuous thoughts, and Gaston blindly reaches for the aspirin that lays nestled in the bottom drawer of his desk, right next to the flask of _Grey Goose._ He should have asked Lefou those kind of questions rather than flirt incessantly.

Flickering his gaze once more to the time, Gaston discovers that at the very least, he only has about forty minutes left of this dreadful work shift before sweet freedom greets him with open arms. Pulling himself up, he determinedly examines the first document on his tower of paperwork, deciding that the look on Adam's face when he finds his work finished would be enough to satiate his excitable nerves.

 

 

When six o'clock comes, Gaston goes.

As expected, Adam had been more than surprised when he had dropped the massive stack of completed order forms onto his desk, smug smile stretching across his face. With a roll of the eyes and a word of thanks, Adam had allowed Gaston to leave five minutes early as reward, and the man hadn't hesitated for a moment before flying down the twenty flights of stairs, stomach churning with excitement.

Gaston arrives back at his apartment at a quarter to seven, determinedly casting the offensive dress shirt to the floor as he stumbles to his bedroom. Throwing open the closet doors, he stands with one hand on his hip and the other caressing his chin, observing the various materials that hang before him.

There are several appealing options to choose from. Gently sifting through the bright hues, Gaston's grin stretches wide as he spots his favorite shirt, a silky maroon top pressed to perfection. Quickly extracting the article and turning to the full-length mirror on the opposite wall, he gazes at himself with the shirt held loosely over his figure.

Quickly throwing the shirt on over his shoulders, Gaston reaches for the cellphone that rests in his back pocket, quickly tapping his thumb onto the screen. It's closing in on seven, and all his plans are set in motion.

With a speed unknown to himself, Gaston has his shirt buttoned three-fourths of the way up, revealing a toned chest and a peak of it's unruly hair. Swapping out his faded dress pants with a favorite pair of jeans, he tucks the tail-end of the shirt into the dark denim. Slinking a thin leather belt around his waist, Gaston can't help but admire the picturesque image of himself in the mirror.

The better he looks for himself, the better he looks for Lefou.

Despite the relative warmth that spring emits, Gaston throws on his favorite leather jacket, taking one last look at himself before leaving. Smoothing over the luxurious hair at his scalp, Gaston cracks one final toothy grin, standing at full attention.

 _I truly am good-looking,_ he thinks as modestly as he can muster.

With one final pose, the man gathers up a few necessary belongings before putting on his boots and flying out the door, smile not fading whatsoever.

 

 

When Lefou begins to close up shop, he resolutely does not look at the time. Having fallen into a very cut-in-stone routine over the past year, not a minute is wasted when it comes to cleaning up trimmed leaves and awry petals. The internal clock that is ticking away inside Lefou tells him that it's exactly 7:43 in the evening, the outside light growing dim and being replaced with harsh artificial warmth.

After all his work is finished and the register is emptied, Lefou can't help but meander about the service desk, a nervous feeling settling in the pit of his stomach. Belle had already left earlier, talking about some mutual friend she was meeting for coffee, and had entrusted him with the responsibility of locking her shop up. Lefou was always touched at how much the young woman believed in his abilities.

Deciding to retire to the small office (see: closet) that presides behind the register, Lefou quickly eyes himself in the circular mirror hanging above the safe. He had foregone his typical outfit for a more comfortable style, and so far he didn't think he looked all that bad. The sweater he wore was well-fitting enough, and his pants had been bought sometime in the past six months. Quickly trying to handle the errant strands of hair on his head, Lefou stares at himself and takes a deep breath.

 _It's only a date,_ his inner voice says with a hint of disdain. _It's not like you're marrying the guy._

"I know that," Lefou scoffs aloud. "I'm just—trying not to make a fool of myself."

_You don't need Gaston to do that. I mean honestly, you're talking to yourself out loud. That's pretty embarrassing._

Lefou finds that he can't argue with that logic. Giving a final nod of approval, he slips back out into the main area of the shop and nearly screams when an imposing figure presses against the glass.

Clutching his heart, it takes Lefou a good ten seconds for his eyes to adjust. Embarrassment flooding through his entire body, he quickly unlocks the entrance door and throws his face out into the cool night air.

"Are you trying to scare me to death? What the hell dude!"

Gaston merely offers an apologetic smile, sauntering over to the other man with breezy movements. Lefou turns pink at the sight of him, dressed impressively head to toe.

"I'm sorry, Lefou. I just couldn't wait any longer, and I was trying to see if you were still inside. Why'd you turn the lights off so soon?"

"It saves money," Lefou quips as he reaches for the jacket that hangs on a peg beside him. "Belle pays too much to rent the place as it is."

When Lefou finally exits the shop with his coat wrapped tightly around him, Gaston immediately invades his personal space, a wide grin plastered on his handsome face. Shoving the keys into his front pocket, the grin seems to falter as Gaston focuses his attention on the man's empty hands.

"Whatever happened to the bouquet I was going to buy you?"

Lefou reddens as he remembers Gaston's previous statement.

"Oh. I uh, forgot. It's no big deal, though. I have way too many flowers back home as it is."

Gaston shakes his head in disapproval, moving forward to grip the smaller man by the shoulders. "Nonsense. I will have failed you in every possible way if I do not buy you some flowers tonight."

Cheeks burning hotly, Lefou tries his hardest to not look directly at Gaston's intense stare. "If you insist. Honestly though, it's no big deal."

Withdrawing his hands, Gaston merely nods in understanding at Lefou's words. When the pair pull apart, the noisy sounds of the city distracts them from the awkward standoff at hand, both men staring at the other with unblinking eyes.

"So," Gaston begins, voice deep and feigning courage. "Would you be willing to join me this evening for a date?"

Lefou nods quickly, greatful for the filled silence. "Uh, yes. Yeah. Where are we going?"

Smiling a wicked smile, Gaston moves to Lefou's side and offers an arm. "It's still a secret," he whispers slyly, eyes shining with excitement. Sighing at the man's unyielding desire for secrecy, Lefou grabs the crook of his elbow and allows Gaston to tug him off into the night, trying not to trip over his own feet as they hurtle away.

 

 

Unsurprisingly, Lefou's initial guess of a nice time at the movie theater is the complete opposite of what Gaston's intricate mind has planned. It takes a good while of walking, talking, and a short subway ride before the pair end up at Chelsea Piers, overlooking the East River.

Lefou is surprised at how short the trip had seemed with Gaston, vaguely aware that he hasn't let go of the other man's arm since their departure from _Villeneuve Flowers._ Willing his stomach to stop doing somersaults, he tries to listen to the tail-end of Gaston's story, focusing on his words as he stares off into the distance.

"—Anyways, Adam is a good guy, but he does have a giant stick up his arse. He doesn't have a concept of what fun is either, which is why my job is all the more stressful."

Lefou smiles, glancing at the taller man out of the corner of his eye. "So because he's dedicated to doing his job, you hate him?"

Gaston pauses, a sullen expression on his face. "I don't hate him. I just greatly dislike him, is all."

Nodding in mock understanding, Lefou can't help but smile as Gaston excitedly spots their destination. Grabbing Lefou by the hand, he sprints across the way until they come upon the towering metal docks, steel and chrome piercing against the night sky.

"You're going to love this," Gaston chatters excitedly. "I researched it all day yesterday, and thankfully a friend of mine has some connections."

"Hopefully legal ones," Lefou says with a grin, weaving inbetween people as Gaston pulls him along. It takes less than a minute before he stops unexpectedly, and Lefou nearly crashes into his impenetrable back. Among the throng of people meandering about the dock, a large vessel rests perpendicular to them. Along the dock, a archway covered by dark tarp is illuminated by the several glowing lights, revealing a name of _Bateaux._

"Are you taking me on a river cruise?" Lefou questions, breathless at the sight before him. The entire side of the ship is pure crystalline glass, oblong panels reflecting the soft evening light. Gripping Gaston's hand tightly, Lefou turns to fix him with a disbelieving stare.

"Do you like the idea?" Gaston questions, slowly moving forward whilst sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. "I wasn't sure about it at first. I mean, I had no knowledge about whether or not you were scared of water, and I—"

"—It's perfect Gaston," Lefou interrupts, heart thumping loudly in his chest. The taller man pauses, surprise morphing into a look of relief. Letting out a short breath of thanks, he smiles at Lefou with a nervous grin. Holding tightly to the other's hand, the pair quickly move to get in line, the long entryway jutting out before them.

When everyone is cycled onto the boat, the nerves that jumble inside of Lefou have abated to an almost nonexistent state. Joking and laughing with each other, the pair decide to take their place at one of the furthest tables, pressed against the glass. A single candle crackles between them, flickering in the dim lights of the dining area. Lefou can't help but gawk at the fancy setup, fixing his partner with an enchanted look.

"This is truly amazing, Gaston. How did you even find out about this place?"

Gaston smiles, stretching an arm over his adjacent seat. "A friend told me about it. He took his partner of ten years on a Bateaux cruise, and proposed to him at the end of the evening. The poor guy fainted when he popped the question."

Lefou's entire stomach flips at the combined thoughts of Gaston and proposals. "Did he really?"

"Yeah, but I don't blame him. His boyfriend was some uptight English prat, and probably never expected the man to go through with it." Lifting the glass of water to his right, Gaston fixes Lefou with a curious stare. "How would you react if I proposed to you right now?"

Choking on his own drink, Lefou glares at the other man, wiping the excess water off his lip. "I'd skin you alive, and nobody would find the body."

Laughing loudly enough to attract the immediate attention of everyone around, Gaston swallows his beverage in one go and slams it on the linen tablecloth. He quickly leans forward, grabbing at Lefou's hands and smiling brightly. "I wouldn't worry about proposal now, mon cher. We have plenty of time to work on that in the future."

Lefou can't help but turn red, blushing as Gaston rubs the back of his hand with a calloused thumb. Deciding not to respond, Lefou watches the other man stare contentedly out at the water.

After the boat finally leaves port, the first course of dinner is served with gracious ease. Lefou is pleasantly surprised at the choice of lobster bisque, listening while Gaston excitedly chatters about his love for seafood.

"When I was a child, my father and I used to go fishing along a nearby river. I was never really good at it, but he always encouraged me to keep my chin up. One day I caught a little mackerel of a thing, barely big enough to fry. Dad took it home and proudly showed it off to Mum, and he let me cook it up for dinner." Gaston's eyes gleam as he reminisces, lips stretching softly. "I was hooked ever since."

"That's sweet," Lefou admits, smiling at the other man in turn. "My dad and I usually watched reruns of The Beverly Hillbillies every night."

Gaston can't help but chuckle at his words, rubbing a forefinger across his bottom lip. "You're father sounds like a fun guy."

"He is, absolutely. I can't imagine him doing fishing, except if he could do it while sitting in his recliner."

When the first course is finished and the pair quickly move onto their second, Lefou feels happier than he has in months. Sipping at his flute of newly-aquired champagne, he suddenly feels a twinge of guilt strike him as he eyes the grandeur about them.

"Gaston, I'm having a great time, but I can't help but feel like I'm taking advantage of you."

Glancing up at Lefou, the other man fixes him with a curious stare, mouth full of lobster tail. "What do you mean?" he questions, words slurring together.

"I mean, this whole trip must have cost a fortune. I'm not asking you to reveal details, but I am more than willing to pay my fair share."

Gaston finally swallows his food, fork and knife in hand as he chuckles lightly. "Do not worry about it, Lefou. I already said I had connections. The price was more than acceptable."

"I know, I just—" Lefou can't help but twiddle his fingers nervously. "It would make me feel better if I reimbursed you."

"Lefou, look at me."

With wide eyes, the smaller man holds Gaston's calm gaze.

"I wanted to treat you to a good time. I know that when we first met, I didn't exactly give you the best impression of who I am as a person." Licking his lips, Gaston mulls over his choice of words. "I don't do this often—ever, if I'm being serious with myself—and you're pretty important to me."

Lefou's entire heart crashes into his ribcage, a cold sweat breaking out on the back if his neck. "I don't know what to say," he breathes, cheeks warm.

"Say you're having a good time?" Gaston suggests, cracking an anxious smile.

"That would be an understatement," Lefou whispers. "I'm happier than I've been in a while."

For a moment, neither man speaks. Their eyes catch hold onto each other, mouths both gently grinning in unparalleled delight. Reaching one hand out, Lefou can't help but stare as Gaston's own larger palm engulfs him, tenderly caressing the skin.

Dinner finishes with relatively lax conversation, Gaston and Lefou deciding to split a Duo of Sorbet for dessert. When a small number of patrons finally leave their seats to explore the upper deck, the pair decide to listen to the band play at the corner of the cabin, listing off their favorite musicians.

"I just have to say this because I've got to know what you think—opinions on Adele?" Gaston questions, face impassive.

"Adele? She's a good singer. I've listened to her before."

"No no, Lefou. She's a _great_ singer," the other man says with vivacity. "The best, if I do dare admit."

"I don't know why, but that is something I would totally expect to come from you."

"Is that an insult?"

 "Not at all. I mean, maybe. I don't know."

"Okay then," Gaston says pointedly. "What kind of music do you listen to, if I may ask?"

Lefou snorts. "You may. Just your usual music, I guess. Lots of oldies, like sixties and seventies. Rock music especially. Led Zeppelin and Electric Light Orchestra."

"Oh, so you're a rock fan? I can see it now—front row, screaming wildly, throwing roses onstage."

"That's ridiculous. I would clearly throw carnations. Red ones to be exact, symbolizing my undying love."

The pair giggle relentlessly, trying not to disturb the other diners.

"Do you like older music? Say, forties?" Gaston asks unexpectedly.

Trying to quell his laughter, Lefou shrugs. "It's good. Sinatra was a real talented guy. My dad was obsessed with him."

A sudden look of excitement passes over Gaston's features. "You like Sinatra?"

"Yeah. He's great."

Lefou blinks in confusion when Gaston suddenly rises from seat. Turning away from the other man, he passes through the maze of tables, tiptoeing over to the nearby band. Incrementally rising from his own chair, Lefou takes a short step forward, adjusting his glasses and staring at Gaston in uncertainty as the man whispers to the lead singer.

His blood runs cold when Gaston suddenly siezes the microphone, tapping on it with a finger.

"Hello? Hello!" he booms, holding the mic in front of his face. "Can I have everyone's attention, please!"

Lefou sinks back into his seat, mouth gaping as the sea of patrons fix the man with their numerous stares.

"I would just like to thank everybody for being here tonight! Whether you're dining with friends, family, or a partner, I hope that this evening has surely been special for everyone." Stretching out his available hand, Lefou nearly disappears into the floor when Gaston points at him with a grin. "I am here celebrating my first ever date with the man of my dreams! Say hi, Lefou!"

All of the guests turn to look at the smaller man, eyes piercing with equal parts curiosity and animosity. Lefou feels like he's going to throw up.

"To commemorate this momentous occasion, I would like to dedicate a song to the man of my dreams. I encourage you, if you're here tonight with someone you love, please honor them with the same treatment!" Turning to face the band, Gaston nods enthusiastically.

The telltale beat of a drum begins. The piano player slowly eases in. Turning on foot, Gaston begins to belt out a familiar song.

_Fly me to the moon_

_Let me play among the stars_

_Let me see what spring is like_

_On Jupiter and Mars_

Lefou's entire body flushes with heat, heart hammering in his chest. Gaston's voice is surprisingly smooth, low and reverberating around the lyrics.

_In other words, hold my hand_

_In other words, baby, kiss me_

The other guests begin to clap excitedly, flicking their eyes from Gaston's position with the band to where Lefou sits dazedly, taken by the sight of the man and his voice.

_Fill my heart with song_

_Let me sing forever more_

Gaston can't help but smile widely, blinding Lefou with a look of utter delight.

_You are all I long for_

_All I worship and adore_

_In other words, please be true_

_In other, I love you!_

Lefou's heart is about to crack open. A prompt feeling like he's about to burst into tears washes over him, and he sniffles loudly as Gaston begins to prowl toward him, microphone still in hand as the band plays the chorus loudly, trumpets blaring.

_Fill my heart with song_

_Let me sing forever more_

_You are all I long for_

_All I worship and adore_

_In other words, please be true_

Gaston manages not to trip over his own feet as his captivated audience claps wildly about him. When the taller man finally makes it back to their table, his eyes are shining so brightly that Lefou can't even comprehend thoughts.

"In other words," Gaston whispers lowly, echoing loudly in the microphone while seizing Lefou's hand. "I love you."

When the final note hits, the entire cabin of people bursts out into cheers. Gaston lowers his lips to Lefou's hand, pressing a gentle kiss to the skin. The prickle of his beard seems to shock Lefou back into life, and he can't help but pull Gaston up to wrap his arms around the other man's broad shoulders.

The entire dining room erupts in a simultaneous _aww._ Lefou breathes heavily, face unreadable as Gaston moves to his ear.

"I'm sorry if I embarrassed you. I meant what I said," he whispers, brushing Lefou's ear. "Every word." 

"You're just lucky that you're a good singer," Lefou grounds out in response, throat sore. He feels like he can't manage any more words for the time being.

Letting out a thin chuckle of relief, Gaston pulls away from the other man and quickly takes the microphone back to it's owner before returning to his seat. The general audience that has been watching their mini soap opera becomes very quickly bored, and after a few minutes have passed, the entire cabin is back to it's previous state.

The sorbet that they ordered comes right on time, glazed decadently with two spoons to share. Lefou still can't muster a word since Gaston's performance, throat clenched tight as he mulls over the actions of the man. Slowly rubbing his spoon into the assortment of strawberry goodness, he makes the mistake of meeting Gaston's eyes. The expression that paints his features is almost unreadable.

"Would you like to go outside?"

Lefou pauses at the question. Gaston's voice seems to waver, nervous.

"Okay," he responds quietly, setting down the silver utensil and abandoning his dessert. When Lefou rises from his seat, Gaston quickly moves to takes his hand, grabbing the coat he's abandoned over the back of his chair. With one hand, he impressively manages to maneuver the jacket on with ease, and the pair silently make their way out onto the outside deck, hand in hand.

 

 

The New York skyline is breathtakingly beautiful, city lights gleaming and reflecting in the water below.

Gaston and Lefou immediately make their way to the bow of the ship, leaning against the silver rail as they gaze towards the towering buildings at the shore. Remaining thoughtfully silent, Lefou waits for Gaston to speak as he anxiously taps his thumbs together. In the distance, the Statue of Liberty seems to overlook their tiny vessel, standing proudly still.

"My parents were immigrants," Gaston begins, voice low. "They were both from different places."

Lefou doesn't respond, eyes glued to the torch she carries.

"My dad—he was from France. Mum was from Wales. They met when Dad was traveling abroad, and they fell in love. I grew up in Wales, but I always wanted to live in a big city one day."

Gaston seems to hold his tongue, silently watching the other man out of his peripheral vision.

"Did you ever go to France?" Lefou asks, still not meeting his gaze. Gaston starts at the question, slowly gripping the metal rail before him.

"I studied in Paris during college. It's where I learned French. Dad was pretty adamant about me learning it, but never forced me to call him _Papa._ "

A dam inside the smaller man seems to break open, and Lefou's mouth is talking before his brain knows what's good for him. "Do you love me?" he asks quickly, finally swiveling around to look Gaston in the eye.

For a moment, Gaston freezes up entirely. The unreadable expression crosses over him once more. Pursing his lips, Gaston merely flits his narrowed gaze over Lefou's face, brows drawn tightly together in thought.

"I do," he answers calmly, back straightening to full height. Lefou's ears begin to ring.

"You don't," Lefou intercepts with harsh honesty. Gaston quirks his head to the side, puzzled.

"What do you mean?"

"Gaston, we just met. I don't know about you, but I—I don't think I believe in love at first sight. I mean, we're still practically strangers. And it scares me because I really like you, _and_ _I can't remember the last time someone liked me back, and you're a really good singer, and I—_ "

Lefou is about to start blubbering when Gaston finally pulls him into his arms, hands smoothing over his back with steady strokes.

"It's alright, Lefou. I'm sorry, I probably shouldn't have pulled a stunt like that on the first date."

"No," Lefou says quickly. "I loved it. Too much, actually."

Gaston smiles against his temple, pressing a gentle kiss right next to Lefou's hairline. "I'm really glad you liked it, I think it's well-fit for you."

They continue their embrace, silently rocking against one another in the cool night breeze. A warm feeling spreads into Lefou's finger and toes, and he gently breaks apart from Gaston's hold as he eyes the water's horizon.

"Too bad we don't have any fishing poles. I bet we could catch some serious game in these waters."

Gaston lets out a raucous laugh, staring down into Lefou's dark eyes. "Who needs a fishing pole when you've got your hands?"

Letting go of Lefou, Gaston slinks closer to the edge of the boat, shucking off his leather jacket and slinging it over the railing. With a curious look, Lefou follows behind him as he bends over to touch the surface of the water, close enough to drag a finger through the current. A shock of horror grips his heart, and Lefou quickly moves to grab the other man's shoulder.

"Jeez, Gaston, be careful. The boat is still moving!"

"Nonsense, Lefou! I'm not going to fall over. I'm just seeing if I can spot any fish swimming about."

"They're probably swimming _away_ from all the noise going on. Come on, you're freaking me out."

Rolling his eyes in a playful manner, Gaston allows the smaller man to pull him away from the water's edge. Fixing Lefou with a sly smile, he can't help but poke at his paranoia. "So you really do care for me, then."

"Yes, sure. I'd care for any idiot who threw themselves over the side of a boat."

Gaston lets out a loud bark of laughter, grabbing Lefou by the shoulder. "What if I proved to you that I'm the most agile man who ever lived?"

Lefou doesn't get a chance to respond before Gaston pulls back and splays his hands out in front of him. For a single breathless second, Lefou thinks that Gaston is about to drop down and give him twenty. Unexpectedly, the taller man throws himself forward and kicks his feet up into the air, palms spread over the lacquered wood of the deck. His heart leaps up into his throat as Lefou's eyes Gaston, completing a steady handstand with relative ease. Reaching forward, Lefou tries not to grab at the other man's ankles.

"How am I doing?" Gaston questions, voice shaking with exertion.

"Gaston, you're going to—"

Abruptly, the other man's arms begin to wobble unsteadily. Watching at what seems like half speed, Lefou's mouth drops as the other man begins to tumble, swinging to the side with one leg slipping past the rail.

Lefou doesn't make a sound as Gaston trips and falls, eyes wide and unblinking as he unexpectedly disappears from his sight.

The telltale sound of a body hitting the water rings out through the night air.

Lefou screams. 

Flying over to the rail, Lefou wildly looks into the dark water below to see Gaston bob to the surface, wet hair plastered to his skull. Lefou continues yelling, repeating Gaston's name in a mantra of panic as the man slashes through the water and reaches for the side of the boat, face completely frozen as his teeth chatter together.

In a blur of movement, Gaston manages to catch hold of the ladder at the hull, spluttering as he drags himself up the rungs. Lefou nearly topples into the water himself reaching for the other man, grabbing at his soiled shirt and bubbling with anxiety as he searches the man for injury.

When Gaston manages to flop back onto the deck, the entire cruise has accumulated around them, phones out and recording the scene with faux concern. A crew member comes rushing forward, towel in hand as Lefou pulls Gaston forward by his shirt, attacking him verbosely.

"Are you an idiot? You're an idiot, I cannot believe you actually thought that doing a handstand on a moving vessel was a good idea. I'm going to kill you. I'm going to throw you back over the side of the boat, Gaston, I'm—"

"Excuse me," the crew member interrupts timidly. The pair of men turn to fix their eyes on her, Lefou fuming silently. "I have a towel with me. If you could come back inside to the crew quarters, we can attend to you immediately."

Gaston doesn't say a word, merely reaching for the towel and wrapping it around his shoulders. Lefou snorts out an annoyed breath, rising to his feet and grabbing Gaston by arm. Slowly following Lefou in turn, the pair allow themselves to be ushered back into the warm cabin, pressed against one another and dripping along the way.

 

 

As expected, Gaston is forced to strip down to his boxers and put on an old, oversized shirt.

When all is said and done, the captain emerges from his station to give Gaston a good talking to. Although the old man makes it very clear that he's glad Gaston didn't drown in the freezing water of the Upper New York Bay, the tirade he goes on about responsibility and the safety of the boat's patrons make Lefou's heart shrink in his chest.

Silently watching Gaston from where he now sits at the edge of the bed they share, Lefou sighs. The majority of his outfit has dried from the heat of the cabin alone, but the smaller man is focused entirely on the defeated expression the other man holds. Folding his hands in front of himself, Lefou makes to apologize to Gaston for his sudden burst of anger outside.

"I'm sorry I ruined our date," Gaston manages to mumble aloud, right as Lefou begins to speak. Shutting up instantly, the smaller man fixes Gaston with a soft gaze.

"You didn't ruin our date, Gaston. I had fun. I just didn't have as much fun when you fell into the water."

Gaston lets himself smile, eyes transfixed onto Lefou's face. "I'm glad. And I'm truly sorry. Next time I try to impress you physically, let's keep it to the bedroom."

Lefou smacks the side of Gaston's naked thigh, an unimpressed look painting over his features. "I'm trying to be sincere, for once. Don't ruin it."

Letting out a gasp of delight mixed with equal parts pain, the taller man sits up and moves next to Lefou. "I'm sorry. For everything. I just hope that you're at least willing to remain friends."

"Friends? Just friends?"

"After tonight, I completely understand if that's what you choose." Gaston shifts uncomfortably, avoiding the other man's gaze. "I unfairly put you on the spot with my feelings, and then nearly killed myself trying to impress you."

Lefou can't help but look at the man like he's grown two heads. "Gaston, I'm not mad, and I'm not lying when I say that I had more fun tonight than I've had in a long time." With a deep breath, he continues. "I really like you, Gaston. And I don't want to just be friends with you."

When he gives the man a side-along glance, Gaston's soft gaze causes him to flush pink. Turning to face him fully, Lefou clamps down on his nerves and pushes forward, kissing the other man on the lips. Beneath him, Gaston lets out a thin gasp of air, moving to cup his chin and meeting him with just as much fervor.

Lips rubbing against the other man's stubble for a few seconds more, Lefou pulls away to stare into Gaston's cloudy gray eyes. Reaching for his hand, Lefou allows himself a moment to rest his head on Gaston's sloping shoulder, slotting their fingers together as he stares through the small porthole at the wall. Gaston merely rests his own head on Lefou's in turn, smiling as he grips the smaller man's hand tightly.

" _Ce sera un nuit souvenu,_ " he murmers, bringing Lefou's hand to his mouth and kissing it with gentle warmth.

For once, Lefou isn't all that bothered that he can't speak a word of French, closing his eyes and letting Gaston softly hum him into peaceful rest. It was, after all, a pretty good date. 

**Author's Note:**

> Translation: "This will be a night remembered."
> 
> 1.) Gaston is a huge Adele fan because Luke is an Adele fan. I couldn't resist. Ten point if you can guess who Belle got coffee with, and who Gaston's two "friends" are. 
> 
> 2.) The song that Gaston sings for Lefou is "Fly Me to the Moon" by Frank Sinatra. 
> 
> Once again, thanks for reading!


End file.
